


Mother Always Knows Best

by badlifechoices



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Amanda is the best matchmaker, M/M, Matchmaking, Pre-Relationship, coffee shop AU, listen there are never enough coffee shop aus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 04:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22004839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badlifechoices/pseuds/badlifechoices
Summary: Amanda Grayson is the best Matchmaker.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 6
Kudos: 233





	Mother Always Knows Best

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story for the lovely Teacup-Spock on tumblr. You're amazing and I wish you good luck with your studies! (Also belated Merry Christmas)

Spock sighed, his perfectly plucked eyebrows arching ever so slightly. “I do not understand the purpose of this excursion, mother. 

The woman at his side rolled her eyes, looking up with her face framed by waves of beautiful, brown hair. “I’m taking you out for coffee, dear. I wanted to spend some more time with you before you begin your studies at the academy and will be too busy to meet with your poor mother.” 

The half-Vulcan’s expression did not change. “We did not have to leave your apartment to spend time together, mother. There is no need to go to an unfamiliar place to acquire drinks, when we have a perfectly functional replicator at home.” 

Amanda chuckled, finding herself confronted with the same logical complaints that her husband uttered on a regular basis. “It’s not unfamiliar, Spock. I’ve been there before; they have an excellent selection of teas as well.” 

“Our replicator can provide about 1432 different blends of tea. And if you insist on using non-replicated ingredients, I am proficient in preparing your favourite beverages as well.” 

The human shook her head, clearly unimpressed by her son’s explanations. “But I wanted to come here. You could use to get out more. Studying is nice and well but it’s important to stay in touch with the world. And who knows, maybe you can find some friends if you go out more.” 

Spock pursed his lips slightly. “I do not need any friends, mother. And I have no need to “get out” more either as my room supplies me with clear air and a sufficient amount of sunlight to avoid vitamin deficiencies. I am certain father would agree that my studies are more important.” 

Amanda simply shushed him, interlacing their arms and pulled him towards one of the small buildings that was decorated with very traditional signs and featured large windows. The writing above the door announced the place as the **Café Enterprise**.

Without allowing her son to utter another complaint, she pushed open the glass door and gave him a little push inside. “Try to enjoy Earth a little while you’re here. Who knows when you’ll see it next.” She knew perfectly well that Spock didn’t mind indulging her, not when she could see the warmth in his beautiful, brown eyes. He was a good kid, even if he didn’t understand that sometimes allowing emotions to rule over logic wasn’t the worst thing ever. 

The interior of the shop was small but cosy. Round tables were scattered about the room, each with a set of three or four colourful chairs around them. A couch in the back invited those looking for more comfort to sit and stay for a while. The walls were decorated with vintage posters and advertisements, some of them so old that Spock had only seen them in educational vids on the history of earth. Others he didn’t know at all and it fascinated him to think that someone went through an incredible amount of trouble to collect all of this. Surely it had taken a lot of patience and dedication. 

The air embracing the newcomers was warm and carried a gentle smell of coffee with it that made Spock’s nose tingle pleasantly. A few costumers were seated about the room, each equipped with porcelain cups. Vintage as well, the half-Vulcan thought to himself. 

He followed his mother to the counter, behind which a giant coffee maker stood that had clearly been kept in pristine condition and barely gave away its age. Though Spock wasn’t sure if machines like that were still manufactured at all. 

Once they reached the counter, a young man turned around to face them. Tousled, blond hair crowned a friendly face with sparkling blue eyes. Immediately, Spock found himself captured by the intensity of their gaze and for just a little moment he forgot just where he was. It was as though he was staring at a cloudless, earth-sky.

He blinked and found himself back in reality, clearing his throat a little. 

The man behind the counter gave both of them a brilliant smile that seemed to light up his face even further like he was trying to rival the sun. “Hey, welcome to the Enterprise. Named after the second greatest ship in the fleet.” 

He glanced from Amanda to Spock and then back again before speaking again: “Mrs. Grayson was it, right? You look very good today, ma’am.” 

Amanda chuckled. “Call me Amanda, dear. I’m here to escape all the formality. This is my son, Spock.” 

The barista’s grin widened further. “Amanda it is.” Then he turned to Spock and tipped his forehead in an antiquated salute. “Nice to meet you, Spock. I’m Jim, your _Captain_ for today. I take it you want the Vulcan Spice tea?” 

For a moment Spock wanted to admonish the man for his assumption of beverage based on his species. But then again, he did indeed favour the Vulcan Spice tea amongst the options displayed on the menu above the man’s head. So, he gave a curt nod. “Indeed, Captain.” He purposefully used the title the other had given instead of his first name to avoid any unnecessary intimacy. 

Jim looked almost like he was pouting for a moment before he turned to Amanda. “A ginger spiced latte for you?” 

The woman smiled in return. “You remember! Yes please. What a charming young man you are. You know, I think you’re just Spock’s type.” 

The last part of the statement made Spock freeze in his movement, but Jim only laughed. “That’s great! You can sit down anywhere; I’ll bring your drinks around immediately.” 

“Mother-” before Spock could finish his sentence, Amanda had already grabbed his arm and dragged him over to one of the tables. She made sure that both of them were seated in a way so that they could observe the man busy himself behind the counter. 

“Why would you state a clear lie like that, mother?” Spock asked, keeping his voice even. If there was a tiny hint of green around the tips of his ears, it was certainly only the lighting. 

Amanda smiled knowingly, grasping his hands with her own. “Oh, no need to be ashamed, Spock. It would do you some good to be around people more. And who knows, maybe you can ask him out on a date. You can’t tell me you don’t think he’s cute.” 

“I do not have a _type_ , mother. It is illogical to narrow one’s selection of a partner by superficial elements such as demeanour and appearance. And I will be assigned my mate by the heads of our family when it is time for my Pon Farr. So, it is not necessary for me to date.” And yet, as he spoke, Spock’s eyes travelled from his mother’s face to the man behind the counter who was humming along to the soft music playing from the speakers. 

Jim was putting together their drinks with steady hands, not looking up until he was satisfied with his work. When he noticed that Spock was watching him, he flashed him another one of his brilliant smiles. Maybe Amanda was right and there was something special about him, something he couldn’t quite place. 

His mother hummed, her face betraying a certain sadness. “You know, I don’t believe in some of the Vulcan traditions. But it is your choice to follow them or not. Your father broke tradition to marry me. I want you to be able to choose the best of both worlds for yourself.” 

Spock waited with his answer as this was the moment Jim chose to approach their table. In his hands he carried a slender glass cup, which he set down in front of the half-Vulcan and a beautifully ornamental porcelain cup that he placed in front of Amanda. 

“Here you go, you two. I hope you enjoy it. If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.” He winked at Spock and the Vulcan in question had no clue how to respond. 

Unsure what to say, he only gave a polite: “Thank you, Captain.” 

Jim patted him on the shoulder and then, clearly upon realising what exactly he had just done, hurried to apologise: “Ah, I’m sorry. I know you Vulcan’s aren’t into touching. Damn, sorry, didn’t mean to be inconsiderate or anything.” 

With that, he hurried back to his counter, his cheeks suddenly looking a little more pink-ish than before. 

Amanda leaned across the table; her eyes narrowed with amusement. “He likes you.” 

Spock’s eyebrow twitched. “How can you know that, mother. He simply acted according to human parameters. I learnt that touches like that are frequently used to express camaraderie or as polite greetings.” 

The woman pursed her lips and slowly pulled the napkin from underneath Spock’s cup. “Oh, I can tell.” With one graceful move of her wrist, it unfolded itself and displayed a series of numbers written upon it. Underneath it was scrawled: _Text me if I really am your type. :)_

Amusement was written across Amanda’s face: “He left you his communicator code.” 

“I see.” Spock picked the napkin from her fingers and pocketed without a second thought. “I would prefer not to talk about private matters like this in public.” 

The glee didn’t fade off his mother’s features, as she gave him a “uh-humm” and took a sip of her coffee. 

To his surprise the tea was excellent, almost as though prepared in the traditional, Vulcan way. He hadn’t expected to find someone who could replicate the exact taste, as not even the replicators managed it. 

Silently, he decided that he should come here again when he had the time. Obviously only to enjoy the tea. 

Amanda steered their conversation towards the more mundane, asking about the Starfleet Academy and his educators and everything that popped into her head. She enjoyed spending some time with her son and it was clear that she was hesitant to let him go so far away from her new home. 

Spock remembered when he had asked her if she missed Earth and she had told him that there was nothing to miss as long as she was around him and his father. And yet he could tell that she greatly enjoyed being back to her home planet.

As a child he had wondered if he wouldn’t be happier as a human and for a moment, he could almost imagine that he too belonged here; that they could stay where their responsibilities wouldn’t catch up with them. But that was not the path he had chosen. 

The ping of Amanda’s communicator brought him back to reality all too quickly and she sighed. “We have to leave. Your father is requesting us to meet him at the embassy.” 

They both finished their drinks and got up to leave. The place had become busier over the last minutes and Jim barely had the time to look up and wish them goodbye. 

Somehow, Spock felt almost disappointed that he had to leave so quickly. Certainly, it had to be because he found the atmosphere and the beverage to be quite pleasant. 

And if he ended up trying to find words to describe the azure blue of Jim’s eyes to his logbook later that day, it was purely a scientific endeavour to understand human physiology of course…

It wasn’t until he found himself waiting for a certain Jim Kirk in front of a local Italian restaurant later that same month, that he admitted to himself that maybe he was fascinated with more than just the other’s eyes and his ability to prepare Vulcan Spice tea.


End file.
